Page 29 of Stolen Vows

I hang up the phone. I don’t know what he made of everything in that conversation. But he seemed satisfied with my answers, vague as they were.

I make my way towards the shower until I feel the phone buzzing once more in my pocket. Without thinking, I snatch it up and lift it to my ear.

"Dad, what is it?” I demand, a little more sharply than I intended.

But instead of hearing his worried tones down the line, I am met with a sudden and distinct silence. A shiver runs up my back—fuck. Is it him? I pull the phone away to check the number, and it’s blocked. My heart leaps in my chest. Someone has intercepted the burner phone’s number—someone is probably tracking my location.

I hang up the call at once and dump the phone on the counter, striding off towards the bathroom before I can overthink things. The last thing I need is for someone to catch wind of where we are, especially with things between Cara and me being so tense.

I need to think, restrategize, and hope the anti-hacking software on the burner phone is successfully blocking our location.

14

Cara

Pushing open the door, I peep outside the bedroom, clutching the key in my hand.

Max was so distracted earlier, he hardly noticed me grabbing the key from his pocket when I saw it glinting there as he dropped off my breakfast.

I don’t know what I am planning to do with this freedom, exactly. But when I heard the shower running, I figured that now is my best chance to make use of it. I need to do something, even if I am not entirely sure what that something is.

Or what I am trying to get from it.

Proof, maybe. Proof that what he said to me was true. Or space away from that tiny cage of a bedroom. I have no idea. I don’t believe what he said about my father, at least, not entirely. Yes, my father is involved in the criminal world, but that doesn’t mean that he’s some kind of monster utterly consumed by his need to hurt and control people.

I have no doubt that’s what Max’s father has said to him, just to try and convince him that all of this is right. Despite everything that has happened, I don’t think Max is a bad person. I don’t think he’s cruel, or that he would kidnap someone on their wedding day unless he had a very good reason to.

I glance around the living room, and my eyes land on the kitchen counter where his phone is sitting.

I can’t believe my good luck! I stare at the device as if it’s a trap. I don’t want to get Max into any trouble, but I also don’t want to stay here. My heart skips a beat in my chest. I don’t know who I’ll call, and I don’t know if it will trigger some kind of alarm, but I have to try and make the most of this opportunity.

I dive towards the phone and grab it. A call has been recently logged on the phone from an unknown number. I hover my finger over it for a moment. Who could it be? One of his men, most likely, maybe family. I heard him talking to someone a few moments ago. Though, even with my ear pressed to the door, I couldn't make out who it was.

Before I can find some way to talk myself out of this, I click the number and call it back. I listen as it rings a few times, glancing towards the shower door, wondering what he will do if he comes out and sees me like this. I can still remember the rage and fury in his voice when he caught me after that escape, and the thought of bringing that down on my head all over again is not pleasant.

Suddenly, the call is answered. I swallow hard. I don’t know what to say. Before I can talk myself out of it, I blurt something out.

"It’s me. It’s Cara Leone!”

My voice cracks as I say my name. I hadn’t realized how hard it was for me to call myself by that last name in a situation like this. I am part of that family, my father’s daughter, and no matter how unsure I might be about holding that position, I have to acknowledge my heritage, who I am. Even if it means associating myself with the things Max accused my dad of.

"Cara?”

A voice replies in shock—not my father, but someone who knows me, at least. My body tenses.

"Yes, it’s me!”

"Stay on the line," the man orders, as I hear him rustling around on the other side of the call. "We’re going to track your location..."

The moment he says that, for a split second, I want nothing more than to hang up the phone and pretend like I never made this call.

Because if they find me, if they find us, I know what is going to happen to Max. I know what my father does to people who fuck him over, even in the most distant, abstract sense, and Max put hands on me, his daughter. Even if it’s just to prove a point, my dad has to do something about that.

My hand trembles and I stay on the call. I have to get back to my father. It’s the only way I am going to be able to find out if what Max said to me is true. And if I can reason with him, maybe I can find some way to keep Max alive, too, or, at least, to protect him from the worst of my father’s wrath.

If I tell my dad that Max’s been brainwashed to believe he’s into sex trafficking, maybe he won’t wipe him off the face of the earth because of what he’s done.

"There," the man replies, finally. "Done. You’ll be out of there soon, alright, Cara?"

---